


Colour Me Surprised

by Synekdokee



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Fluff, M/M, and paint sex, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synekdokee/pseuds/Synekdokee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik buy their first home. It needs a bit of fixing up. And of course it needs to be christened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour Me Surprised

**Author's Note:**

> Another belated birthday present, this time for Kat (fightingfortheusers), who asked for paint-smudged fluff :> I hope this passes the muster!

“I think we’re done!” Charles stepped back to stand in the middle of their new living room, eyeing the bright white paint job with a critical eye. He felt Erik’s satisfaction well up behind him, and couldn’t damp down on the answering sense of pride blooming in his own chest.

It was their first home – a house they’d bought together, with a shared, non-inheritance budget. They’d had to work hard for it, but it felt all the sweeter for that. Even if the house had been scuffed by the previous families who had inhabited it.

 They had spent the first two days after moving in fixing the dents in the walls and painting, and Charles was happy to be done with it. Neither he nor Erik were much for interior design, but painting walls white wasn’t beyond them.

 Charles felt Erik's mind draw him close, and then Erik was wrapping his arms around him, pulling him against Erik's firm chest. Erik pressed his nose into the curve of Charles's neck, and inhaled deep.

 "You smell sexy," he murmured.

 Charles grinned and turned around slowly, smiling up at Erik.

 "I smell of paint and turpentine," he said, reaching up on his tip-toes to press a kiss to Erik's cheek.

 "You have paint." Erik brushed his thumb over the tip of Charles's nose, showing him the smudge of white.

 "So do you," Charles grinned, and swiped his brush across Erik's face, managing contact before Erik used the metal enforcement on the brush to stop him. He stared at Charles stunned, then shook his head as if to wake himself, and then the large paint roller was flying through the air at Charles.

 "Erik no!" he shouted, trying to escape, but Erik had wrapped his arms firmly around his waist, holding him still as the roller ducked through the air to paint Charles's skin. Charles defended himself with the brush as he best could, but Erik had heavy artillery and wouldn't give up until Charles dropped the brush and buried his paint-streaked face against Erik's broad chest.

 "You're awful," Charles mumbled into Erik's shirt.

 Erik's laugh reverberated through his chest. "You should know better by now than to start a war with me."

 Charles lifted his face, biting his tongue against laughter as he wiped his hand over Erik's left cheek, smudging the paint there.

"You look ridiculous."

 "So do you," Erik smiled, eyes crinkled with happiness. He dipped down to kiss Charles, his mouth soft and tender against Charles's lips. Slowly Erik's arms began to pull Charles closer, cocooning Charles against him as their kisses grew deeper, more heated. Finally Charles pulled back, scraping his teeth against his bottom lip.

 "We're not going to christen our freshly painted living room," he said firmly, but his voice was a little breathy. Erik's chest was rising and falling heavily beneath Charles's flattened palms.

 “How about christening the bedroom?” Erik growled, mouthing the curve of Charles’s neck softly.

 Charles gave an undignified squeak as Erik grabbed him firmly, lifting him by his thigh until he was forced to wrap his legs around Erik, clinging to his shoulders to stop himself from falling. Erik grinned and held onto him, walking them slowly towards the bedroom. Charles buried his face in the crook of Erik’s neck, stifling a laugh against the warm skin.

He cried out when Erik let go, and tumbled gracelessly onto the mattress, Erik crawling over him in that half-menacing way that never failed to get Charles’s blood pumping, his breath coming in short hitches. Charles’s fingers reached up to the bottom of Erik’s shirt, starting to peel it off slowly. The paint streaks would dry and never come off, but there were more pressing matters in Charles’s mind as Erik lowered his body down to kiss him.

 

 

They did end up christening the re-painted rooms, finding themselves back in the freshly painted living room, lying drowsily on the newspaper sheets they’d put down to protect the hard wood.

Charles rested his head on Erik’s chest, listening to steady rhythm of Erik’s heart, his head rising and falling in time with Erik’s breathing.

There was a puddle of paint on the newspapers next to them, spilled over from where Erik had knocked over a bucket while trying to manhandle Charles. Charles had accidentally smacked his hand right into it, and his right hand was now covered white with dried paint.  
  
There was a palm-shaped paint smudge somewhere over Erik’s heart, a sign of where Charles had rested his hand unconsciously, marking Erik without even intending it.  
  
Now it was covered up, Erik’s warm fingers tangled with Charles’s as he kept their palms over the hand print.

 “I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it here.” Erik’s voice rumbled in his chest, soothing.

“In the suburbs?” Charles teased.

“Home,” Erik said, voice suddenly rough.  
  
Charles’s breath caught, his heart swelling suddenly with emotion. There was nothing to say, nothing that Erik didn’t already know about Charles and his lonely childhood, of what _Erik_ signified to him. He squeezed Erik’s hand tightly, more of a promise than anything he could convey with words.


End file.
